Down, Kitty! Down! HISS!
A faint melody of jingling bells draws Gale's attention to a large white birch. Scanning the area around the tree, the lack of snow makes the predawn darkness impenetrable. He is about to blame his imagination for conjuring the noise, when the moon illuminates a plume of condensation in the chill air. Gale smiles as he notches an arrow and waits for the sun to reveal his prey. The deer's grunts help him track its foraging until a glint of sunshine catches on the creature's nose. Red? His arrow pierces its heart. The red glow fades. 'Merry Christmas' to me.
